


where i end and you begin

by ninwrites



Series: Shadowhunters Coda Scenes [11]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Related, Coda, Communication, Domestic Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Drunk Alec, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Post-Episode: s03e06 A Window Into An Empty Room, Supportive Magnus Bane, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, alternate ending for 3x06, alternate missing scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 05:25:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14489760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninwrites/pseuds/ninwrites
Summary: It is a conversation that should be had when Alec is sober, when they both are, not in the hall of Magnus’ loft.A missing scene/canon rewrite for 3x06





	where i end and you begin

**Author's Note:**

> Otherwise known as I needed to remember how to write so an exercise in writing spiralled into -- this.
> 
> \--
> 
>  
> 
> Big thanks to the ice coffee that spurred the second half of this, and [sara](https://twitter.com/ssaralarssons) for assuring me that I (probably) can still write.
> 
> \--
> 
> from the poem ["a goodnight"](https://twitter.com/beautaplin/status/433477541395824642) by beau taplin

 

Magnus walks the rest of the distance to the loft, his magic too jittery to test on a portal – the last time it had been so temperamental, he’d been caught in an Alaskan blizzard, and he’s in no way dressed for that, or any other international trip, for that matter.

 

He needs a moment, to calm his mind, and by extension his magic; he doesn’t have the leniency for it to haywire, he barely has the time for a restorative sleep before someone will be tugging at his sleeve, needing his help for this problem, or that.

 

They didn’t catch the owl, don’t know what the point of it is, what it wants, and there’s a restless itch beneath Magnus’ skin that hasn’t left since the disturbance at Lorenzo Rey’s gaudy mansion.

 

Something is coming, something dark and sinister and Magnus doesn’t know how to prepare for it. The wisest part of him doesn’t believe there is any chance or hope of it; whatever is coming is bigger than all of them.

 

That thought alone is exhausting.

 

Magnus stumbles through the front door, using a slip of magic to speed the elevator up, wondering the whole time how mundanes travel without such assistance. Of course, he travelled before portals, he created them, he understands the intricacies of magic travel better than most, but there’s a dependency deep within him that he cannot shake.

 

Habits, they say, die hard; _Magnus’_ habits, tend to be as immortal as he.

 

The elevator chimes obnoxiously, the doors dragging open as though it’s a struggle, and not their given intention. Magnus steps out with tired grace, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off the blooming headache, his eyes fluttering closed.

 

They shoot open a second later, his heart lurching fast enough it’s a miracle that his ribs keep it safe. It knows, just as his magic does, pulsing beneath his skin; his _soul_ knows, glowing happily even as his mind argues that now is not the time.

 

“Alexander?”

 

It’s a whisper and a prayer, all wrapped in foolish hope, but Alec looks up, eyes dark and bloodshot and Magnus can’t _breathe_.

 

_“Alec and I had a fight.”_  Yes, he’d told Clary it was a bad one, and he’d been hesitant in the face of her hope, but that was all when he’d been planning on drowning his sorrows in burning amber and his own frustrated self-pity.

 

He needed a plan, he needed time, he needed the chance to have a genuine conversation with Alec about it, a chance for them both to provide their respective arguments without it all getting tangled between them.

 

At the moment, the knot is too messy to yank apart, it needs attention and time, it isn’t something that can be forced.

 

It is a conversation that should be had when Alec is sober, when they both are, not in the hall of Magnus’ loft.

 

(It isn’t quite home, anymore, because he doesn’t feel entirely at ease when Alec isn’t there, and that in itself is terrifying enough for Magnus to need distance, though which kind is as clear as a murky lake at midnight.)

 

“Magnus.” Alec isn’t slurring, which is arguably a good sign. Were he standing, and not slumped on the ground in front of Magnus’ door, though, it would probably be better. “You’re not home.”

 

Magnus laughs, just slightly, because he can’t help himself. Alec seems as surprised as he is.

 

“Alas, not.” Magnus steps forward, hesitant, the ache in his temple pulsing complacently. “I am here. As are you, for reasons unbeknownst.”

 

Alec shakes his head, then stills, the movement dizzying. Magnus feels a pang of sympathy but remains with fair pace between them. “I can’t go – back.” Alec says, carefully skirting around what he really means. “Can’t go to the Institute, that is. Not, like this.”

 

“I don’t suppose it’s appropriate for the Head of the _New York Institute_ to be seen – intoxicated.”

 

Alec holds up a shaking finger, waving it vaguely in Magnus’ direction. “Not intoxicated. _Enlightened_ to the effects of a good drink.”

 

Magnus raises an eyebrow, declaring: “Tipsy, then.”

 

Alec doesn’t deny that, just shrugs, as though he can’t come up with an argument to counter, or perhaps he’s just too inebriated to.

 

“You know,” He ponders, leaning back with his head tipped against the wall – Magnus wonders if he realises that he’s in the hallway, or if it’s just that he couldn’t care. “It’s probably not appropriate for one man to kiss another at his wedding to a _woman_ , or even for the Head of an Institute to be enrapt with a high-standing warlock, and yet-“

 

Alec waves his hand idly, eyes slipping closed. “Here we are.” A second later, his eyes open, and there’s a sadness to them that Magnus finds deep enough to drown in. “Were? I don’t know anymore.”

 

“I’m not breaking up with you.” Magnus states, hating the notion that Alec might get the wrong idea. “I don’t _want_ to. I love you, Alexander, so much that it kills me at times.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Alec whispers, because it’s almost a default, a setting that’s engaged as easily as the flick of a switch. “I love you, too, it’s – it’s who I am, at this point, but it’s never – it’s never been something that was meant to hurt you.”

 

It may not be his intention, but Magnus’ heart breaks a little nonetheless.

 

“That’s what love does.” Magnus wonders how he hasn’t crumbled, when Alec’s gaze lifts to meet his. “It is beautiful, and healing, as much as it is cruel and relentless. It is warm and at times freezing and it never really lets you go, but it is _worth_ every struggle. It is worth everything.”

 

Alec shakes his head, gaze glistening with unshed tears. “I don’t want to lose you.”

 

Magnus’ feet carry him without thought, hesitancy lost to the urgency that rises within him, burning at every corner. He falls to his knees without care to how he lands, his hands reaching out to cusp either side of Alec’s cheek, thumbs brushing aside each desperate tear that falls.

 

“Oh, Alexander.” Magnus’s breath shakes in his lungs. “ _Alexander_ , my love, you won’t lose me. Not over this, not over anything. Remember, what you told me, before Max’s rune party?”

 

Alec stares, cheeks pink and puffy.

 

Magnus’ thumb strokes Alec’s cheek, gentle and idle. “You told me, that _this, us-_ “ The corner of Magnus’ mouth turns up into a watery half-smile. “ _Isn’t going anywhere_. Do you believe that?”

 

Alec frowns, eyebrows knitting together almost lethargically. “Yes. Of course, I don’t want it – I don’t want _you_ to go anywhere without me. I thought that I … didn’t I say that?”

 

_“I’m not going anywhere.”_

 

Magnus’ smile gains strength. “In other words. I simply mean to affirm that you haven’t changed your mind?”

 

“I didn’t.” Alec purses his lips into a thin line, his ears tinted red. “I wouldn’t. I want this, Magnus, I want you, I want – us. Forever.”

 

“Forever is a long time,” Magnus murmurs, as well he knows. “All that is important is what you want, now.”

 

“Now?” Alec stares off, somewhere between the present and wherever his mind has taken him. “Right now, I want to sleep for a hundred years and pretend I have no responsibilities outside of this building.”

 

“That much, in other words, we can do.”

 

Magnus pulls back, offering Alec his hands whilst trying to award him the decorum of ignoring the pitied whine that sounds from the back of Alec’s throat. Alec’s palms burn against Magnus’, but it is a heat that he welcomes.

 

Alec stumbles forward, resting his head against Magnus’ chest, and Magnus’ arm winds around his waist as though it belongs there.

 

Perhaps, Magnus ponders, it always has.

 

“I missed you,” Alec mumbles against Magnus’ chest.

 

Magnus opens the door to the loft with his free hand, magic sparking in bursts like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. If Alec notices the difference, he doesn’t mention it, just clings closer to Magnus like a koala on a eucalyptus branch.

 

“I hope drunk-you doesn’t snore,” Magnus replies, which is to say, that he missed Alec too.

 

Alec stumbles forward, Magnus’ hand a firm assistant at his hip. “Sober-me doesn’t snore.” He insists. “You’re just teasing.”

 

“That I am, darling.”

 

Somehow they manage to make it to the bedroom without Alec’s wayward limbs knocking anything over, although _how_ is beyond Magnus’ comprehension. Alec does end up tripping over the doorway, despite there being nothing in the way, depending on Magnus to pull him back with a quick arm around his waist.

 

“Oops.” Alec giggles, he genuinely _giggles_ , and Magnus is weak to the sound. “Looks like I almost fell for you. Again.”

 

“Literally,” Magnus mumbles, pressing a kiss to Alec’s temple. “Alright, Casanova, let’s get you to bed before you pass out on my nice Persian rug.”

 

“Casanova,” Alec mutters, bitterly. “You know what I think?”

 

Magnus nudges Alec forward, encouraging him to sit on the edge of the king size bed. He kneels on the ground, untying the laces of Alec’s boots, heat tinging the bottom of his cheeks, the way it has been since Alec had spoken of forever. “Sometimes, but please, enlighten me.”

 

“I think Casanova is a myth.”

 

Magnus discards Alec’s left boot, taking a second to rock back onto his heels. “A myth?”

 

Alec nods, crossing his arms over his chest, his leather jacket shifting with the movement. “Obviously, he, you know, _existed_ and everything, but I don’t think he was this big, romance figure, he’s just, you know, a guy.”

 

Magnus stands, having finished with Alec’s boots, and dusts imaginary lint off his knees. “Just a guy.”

 

“Like,” Alec waves his hand, the way he does, almost knocking Magnus’ shoulder. Magnus, to his part, brushes it off, curling his hands around Alec’s to pull him upright. “He’s this eternal idea, right, of the pinnacle of, of flirt and stuff, but then there’s _you_.”

 

“Me?” Magnus nimbly undoes Alec’s belt, spelling it off into the closet.

 

Alec fixes him with a pointed stare. “Yes, you. You’ve been with thousands of people, right, which is – whatever, that’s your life, you can’t be expected to stay lonely for over half a millennia,”

 

Magnus pushes Alec’s leather jacket off his shoulders, tugging it down his arms, watching with amused, and puzzled intrigue, as Alec keeps rambling. It’s a lighter side that he rarely gets to see, and although it’s a shame that it’s come when they’re at such a crossroads, it is not something he’ll pass up.          

 

“But this, Casanova guy.” Alec frowns, staring at his socked feet and then back to Magnus. “He’s, like, got this title, and really, it sounds like you fit the idea better.”

 

“Ah,” Magnus fiddles with the hem of Alec’s sweater, his knuckles brushing against the bottom of Alec’s stomach. “See, Alexander, that is where Casanova and I always differed. Those with hearts like Casanova, and my dear friend Woolsey Scott, they are those whose hearts beat for the joys of lust and the endorphins that come rushing with it.”

 

“And you?”

 

Magnus smiles, gently, thumbs brushing across the edge of Alec’s abdomen. “My heart beats only for you, Alexander. But has never beat for lust alone.”

 

Alec blinks, lashes fluttering against silent tears; there’s a stitch, across Magnus’ heart, metaphoric needle-and-thread sewing together all the pieces that had chipped off. _We’ll be okay_ , he thinks. _This is Alexander, and I. We’ll be okay._

 

“Shadowhunters,” Alec says, somewhere between a shout and a whisper. “Shadowhunters, they, _we_ , uh, we only fall in love once. Once, in an entire lifetime.”

 

Magnus swallows. “Once?”

 

He thinks, strangely, of Henry Branwell, and his wife Charlotte, and how they’d both spent so long thinking they’d married each other for duty, without realising that they both had feelings far deeper.

 

Alec nods, hands curling around Magnus’ elbows. “Yeah. You’re,” Alec shrugs, as though it is the easiest thing in the world, and not the kind to bury beneath Magnus’ skin and set his soul aflame. “You’re it, Magnus. You’re the one.”

 

“You’re drunk.” Magnus replies, tone faint, because he can’t have this conversation, not right now.

 

Alec smiles, the kind where the corner lifts so high it could catch a star, and his eyes shine brighter than any sun. “Tipsy,” He corrects. “Not that it changes anything. You’re the one for me now, and you’ll still be the one when I wake up with a glaring hangover tomorrow morning.”

 

“I,” Magnus can’t speak, can’t push past the barrier at his throat, but Alec doesn’t seem to mind; he leans forward, brushing his lips against the corner of Magnus’ with a care that’s achingly tender, and a tad bittersweet.

 

“It’s okay,” Alec lifts his hand, patting Magnus’ cheek with a slight miscalculation, thumb bumping his ear, reminding them both of Alec’s considerate intoxication. “I know you love me, too. That’s all that matters.”

 

Alec shifts, then, wiggling his hips until his pants fall to his ankles, and Magnus can do nothing more than just stand there, letting Alec’s words wash over him. Alec twines his hands in his sweater and tries to yank it over his head, oblivious to Magnus’ internal ministrations, before somehow getting both of his elbows stuck in the fabric and the neck of his sweater caught against his chin.

 

“Uh, Magnus? Little help?”

 

Magnus eases Alec from the confines of his sweater, heart stuttering at the adorable pink of Alec’s cheeks and the way his hair is sticking at all ends, like a porcupine’s protective needles. Alec grins, bright and unashamed; the sight is so familiar, so warm, that Magnus feels the tension melting away in places.

 

Not entirely, because it never disappears entirely, but significant enough that Magnus feels his shoulders sink, the weight slipping off, for the time being at least.

 

“Thanks,” Alec rocks on his heels, which Magnus doesn’t consider a very good idea, if he’s honest.

 

“Anytime,” He replies, instead, because it fits better, fits within the atmosphere they’ve built between them.

 

Alec blinks, the second a little slower, his smile fading at the corners. “I think I should, sleep.” He states, glancing back at the bed behind him as though he’d only just remembered it was there. “This hangover is going to kill me, and I’ve got – stuff, at the Institute to do.”

 

“I wouldn’t worry about a hangover,” Magnus winks, delighted at the core of himself at how Alec lights up from it. “Although, sleep wouldn’t be too amiss.”

 

Alec nods, stepping back, his hands reaching for Magnus’. “Stay with me?”

 

Magnus frowns, fingers curling against Alec’s. “It is, my bed, Alexander.”

 

“No, I know, I just-“ Alec shakes his head, squeezing Magnus’ hands. “I don’t want you to feel that you need to, you know, sleep on the couch or anything. I’d like, I mean it’s your bed, so you should have it anyway, but I’d like it if – if you slept here, too.”

 

It’s a rollercoaster of a conversation but Magnus knows the ride is worth it.

 

“Alec.” He inclines his head, gaze scanning every inch it can, because no time with Alec ever feels enough, no second is too much. “I’m not going anywhere. Now, scoot your angelic butt into that bed before you pass out on your feet.”

 

Alec nods, a little dazed, before spinning on his heel. The covers pull back before Alec can try, Magnus’ magic saving Alec from face-planting into the mattress; it’s not fritzing anymore, he realises, or not as much anyway, and it’s a relief as much as it is hardly a surprise.

 

“Thanks,” Alec mutters, flopping onto the bed, then rolling over onto his side, his long tree legs kicking the covers back. Magnus smiles, tiny and fond, spelling away his clothes with the flick of a hand, leaving him in only his underwear, before sliding into the bed on his side.

 

The covers settle back over them, tucked over their shoulders, and Magnus’ magic settles within him. Alec shuffles closer, tucking his head against the crook of Magnus’ neck, one leg thrown haphazardly over both of Magnus’, his arm hooked around Magnus’ waist.

 

“Half-Shadowhunter, half-octopus?” Magnus jokes, dimming the lights until the room is bathed in a gentle, golden light; enough that darkness is kept at bay, but the night is still acknowledged in its rightful place.

 

“Just for tonight,” Alec assures, as though he doesn’t cling to Magnus most nights. He presses a kiss to Magnus’ collarbone, fingers stroking Magnus’ ribs. “You’re really warm, and soft, and cuddly, and I love you, so I don’t want to let you go.”

 

Magnus drops a kiss to the top of Alec’s head, urging his heart to keep itself together.

 

“I’m not going anywhere, Alexander.”                                                                                                                                                                                      

**Author's Note:**

> we love some unconventional communication and feels..
> 
> \--
> 
> links - for those interested:
> 
> twitter: [ninwrites](https://mobile.twitter.com/ninwrites) for fic stuff/updates/snippets + [biconicbarnes](https://mobile.twitter.com/biconicbarnes) for general fandom mess + small threads  
>   
> tumblr: [here](https://ninwrites.tumblr.com/)  
>   
> (and while you're there check out the [shfanficnexus](https://shfanficnexus.tumblr.com/), a collection of work by wonderfully talented and lovely writers <3 )  
> thank you for reading!
> 
> \- Nin ❤


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